I think I get the intention of the message, Kia marketers David & Goliath, though at first, or even tenth viewing, it's never really very strong or clear to me. Let me see if I can break the message down as I understand it.
Here's what I believe you're telling me about how I should desire a rolling toaster by the name of Soul.
In your market research, you've guessed that in my comfortable, middle-class world, my biggest fear is that I am part of a society of drones living a drab, washed-out existence set in neutral tones. Not only is there a lack of individuality, purpose, and Soul, but I'm going nowhere fast. Really fast. Me and my fellow drones don't even realize we're not getting anywhere until some crazy new hamsters with, Yes!, Soul! pull up in a red toaster. We are astonished! These daring new city hamsters invoke in us a feeling of deep desire-to-be-desired and longing for fulfillment because they have four wheels instead of one, drive a red toaster, and listen to urban music on popular mp3 players. Attainment of these things is all that's required to express individuality and break from the sterile subuarban world we know is ours. I, too, can have a Soul, you promise.
I get it. With a name like David & Goliath, I understand why you'd want to address the big questions.
What I'm having trouble with is that this execution springs from the same well of lack of individuality and purpose we're seeing in the hamster drones. It seems you've bitten off a whole lot more than you ever had the intention of chewing in a 30 or 60 second spot. There's too much transparency in your goal to attempt to resolve themes of individuality and existential angst. I thought the ad game is to convince me that I lack, to play to my fear of not even knowing I have a lack, or to evoke in me the desire for the thing that will somehow transform me. You didn't deliver. If I buy into your pitch, by the commercial's end you've left me with the same image of myself I started with and I wind up a reworked drone in a low-budget car with bangin' speakers.
You've shown me nothing I lack, and you haven't convinced me that any Soul associated with buying the car comes from your wheels rather than my choice in music. Me and my rodent friends are still caught in a repeating lock-step, simultaneously bobbing our heads to thumping music, but we're never transformed. I'm still a hamster with wheels. Worse, unless I pay cash, someone else owns my soul.